


No Matter How (Im)Perfect the Presidency is, It Always Has to End

by TheAnnoyingAlien



Series: Vampire AU I Guess [6]
Category: Political RPF - US 21st c.
Genre: Alcohol, Awkward Sexual Situations, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Drunken Shenanigans, F/M, Frenemies, Human/Vampire Relationship, M/M, Teamwork, Vampire Turning, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:48:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27324526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAnnoyingAlien/pseuds/TheAnnoyingAlien
Summary: With the 2020 election fast approaching, Donald Trump tricks his vampire lover Bernie Sanders into starting the process to turn him into a vampire. When Bernie realizes that he’s been duped he calls upon the help of some of his former rivals to  try and undo the damage before it’s too late, but will they be willing to help him after how poorly he’s treated them?
Relationships: Bernie Sanders/Donald Trump, Bill Clinton/Hillary Clinton
Series: Vampire AU I Guess [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/864756
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6





	No Matter How (Im)Perfect the Presidency is, It Always Has to End

**Author's Note:**

> Another Halloween, another installment of the weird Bernie Sanders vampire crack AU series. I started drafting this fic back in like December 2019 (I knew that given how busy I am and depression killing my motivation to write I’d probably need to start that early in order to be done by the end of October 2020) so coronavirus wasn’t serious in the US at that time and I didn’t originally have it incorporated into the story. Once it got really bad here I decided to rework the story a bit to include it/make references to it. I guess I could’ve left it out-this is a fic about vampire Bernie Sanders after all, so it’s already not based in reality-but I included it anyways. The vampire Bernie reality is just as shitty and depressing as our own reality. One thing I did change though is the Democratic ticket; the nominee and running mate in this fic are different from what we actually have. This choice isn’t meant to be spiteful towards Joe and Kamala, I’ll be honest I’m really not a fan of either of them at this point (I voted for them by mail a few weeks ago, I never smeared them or anything, and I defended them from other people’s smears, but neither of them were my first choice) but my reason for changing the ticket here was just to change Bernie’s relationship with the nominee and vice presidential candidate to make the story more interesting. So yeah, different ticket but the pandemic is still a thing, that’s all you really need to know going into the fic. Enjoy this product of my depressed tired brain and go vote if you’re American and are able to and haven’t done it already. Not sure what I’ll write for next Halloween but I do intend to update this series again for Halloween 2021. Hopefully we’ll have a better president by then and the pandemic will be under control. Maybe not. Guess we’ll find out in three days. Anyways, enjoy.

The virtual Democratic National Convention in Milwaukee had concluded the previous evening, and Bernie Sanders was now in Washington, sulking out on the White House’s Truman Balcony, staring off absently at the Washington Monument looming in the distance. It had been a crazy, depressing year. January had started things off with the threat of war with Iran, February had brought a deadly pandemic that was still sweeping the nation, and worst of all for Bernie, he’d lost a ton of primaries in March, which spelled the end of his second bid for the presidency! He had once again been beaten by some meddlesome woman getting in his way, and to rub salt in the wound, that woman had selected another woman enemy of his as her running mate. This year’s Democratic nominee was Elizabeth Warren, and for her running mate she had selected none other than Hillary Clinton.

“I’d have much rather been beaten by Biden.” Bernie grumbled to himself, crossing his arms atop the balcony’s railing. “I’d have a much better relationship with him.” It wasn’t that he hated Elizabeth-he liked her, he really did! Well, he liked her when she was useful to him, at least. But ever since she had passed him in the polls she had been a thorn in his side. No amount of mudslinging from Bernie’s staff or supporters seemed to take her down, and although Biden had proved a formidable contender and had seemed for a while to be the likely nominee, his continuous gaffes caused him to lose his lead. Elizabeth had worked hard to appeal to both progressives and moderates and had laid out detailed policy while Bernie had been relying solely on his residual popularity with progressives from 2016, popularity that had faded considerably over the last four years as more and better progressive politicians came onto the scene, and it proved to not be enough to take Elizabeth down. Joe meanwhile had been coasting on his reputation as Barack Obama’s vice president, which he had incorrectly assumed would outweigh his forty years of political baggage, and while he had made it farther than Bernie in the end he too could not defeat Elizabeth.

Joe was understandably disappointed that his third bid for the presidency had ended in failure, but he was being a good sport about it and rallying around Elizabeth and Hillary, as were all of the other Democrats who had run. It seemed as if the whole country was coming together to support them, with many people possessing a guilty conscience over the way they had treated Hillary in 2016. After suffering through the horrors of a Trump presidency for four years, after experiencing the evil and death and suffering he was capable of firsthand, everyone was now working overtime to ensure that Elizabeth and Hillary were elected, to atone for their past mistakes. Well, everyone except Bernie. He gave a halfhearted endorsement of the ticket and refused to do anything beyond that. It made him popular with his devoted Twitter following but angered literally everyone else. Shoving the thoughts of his adversaries away for the time being, Bernie sighed deeply, then immediately regretted doing so, as his glasses fogged up. He still had his face mask on. Cursing to himself, he pinched his mask around his nose to create a tighter seal against his face and then removed his glasses to wipe them clean against his blazer. He was tired, he was angry, he was sick of being stuck in this virus-infested hellhole of a country, and Bernie knew just who he could chew out to let off some steam. He fired off a quick text on his phone and turned to face the balcony doors. A couple minutes later the doors creaked open, and Bernie grimaced at the man who stepped out before him, though it was hidden behind his mask.

“Well well well, if it isn’t my dear, dear husband Bernie!” President Donald Trump smirked. “I wasn’t expecting you this evening, but it’s always good to see you!” Trump stepped forward, getting well within the six feet of space Bernie had been trying to keep between himself and everyone else since the pandemic started. He hooked his fingers under Bernie’s mask and pulled it down to his chin, leaving his mouth exposed so he could press a kiss to his lips. Even though this was most definitely not social distancing, Bernie didn’t protest.

“I’m pissed off.” He muttered, drawing his arms around Donald’s waist.

“When are you not?” Donald snorted. “Well, come on in and you can tell me about it. I invited Mikey over tonight but he won’t be here for a while, so you and I can have some alone time.” Trump grabbed Bernie’s hand and led him inside as Bernie started complaining about all the injustices of the DNC and Elizabeth and Hillary and everyone else he perceived as wronging him. It soon became apparent to Bernie that Trump wasn’t listening; the man was staring at their interlocked hands, a grin upon his face.

“What are you smiling at?” Bernie sneered.

“You wore your ring tonight, just for me!” Donald exclaimed happily. He held Bernie’s hand up, watching the way the dim moonlight coming in from the windows glinted off the very flashy diamond band he was wearing on his ring finger, the band he had presented to Bernie nearly four years ago when he had asked for his hand in marriage. Being a vampire, Bernie couldn’t blush, but if he could he would have at that moment. He snatched his hand away from Donald and turned his nose up.

“Whatever,” He muttered, “I’m wearing your ring for once. Now listen to my complaints about the establishment.”

“I think I’ve listened enough,” Donald decided, “Now I have something I want YOU to listen to!” He swung the door to his bedroom open and gestured for Bernie to enter. Bernie did and sat down on the edge of the bed, expecting Donald to offer up sex or blood for him. Bernie wasn’t too interested in either right now-he had already had a drink from one of his devoted fans a couple days prior, and he hadn’t had any desire to fuck Donald since before the pandemic reached the states-but he figured he would humor his husband.

“Okay Donald, what do you want?” Bernie sighed.

“I want you to turn me into a vampire.” Donald requested. Bernie raised his eyebrows at this. Now that he wasn’t expecting.

“When you first learned I was a vampire you were so worried I’d turn you, and now you want to be turned?” Bernie snorted. “Not happening, Donald.”

“Come on, Bernie! Turn me!” Donald begged. “I’d have so much more power than I already do!”

“That’s why I won’t do it,” Bernie was adamant, “You can’t have that power. You already have too much, and you’ve spent the last four years misusing it and harming Americans!”

“Listen to what your little Blood Orange wants, Bernie!” Donald whimpered. “Turn me!” 

“First of all, I haven’t called you ‘Blood Orange’ in like four years,” Bernie replied dryly, “Second of all, I’ve agreed to not split up with you even though you’re handling this pandemic abysmally, I’ve put up with a lot of your shit and I’ve done a lot that you’ve asked, but I’m never, never going to turn you, and that’s the end of the discussion. You being a vampire would make things worse for both vampires and humans in our country.” Donald pouted but decided to not press Bernie further. Suddenly, his phone went off. He grabbed it from his bedside table and saw that it was a text from his vice president, Mike Pence. Mike was outside.

“Wait here,” Donald told Bernie, “I’m gonna go let Mikey in.” Feeling frustrated with Bernie’s refusal to turn him and angry about the bad media coverage he was receiving because of his handling of the pandemic, Donald decided to take a detour to the kitchen to mix himself a drink to take the edge off. He poured himself a Diet Coke and dumped a generous shot of rum into it.

“Well, if he won’t turn me, I might as well enjoy the perks that come with being human,” Donald grumbled, “I couldn’t get plastered off of booze if I was a vampire; I’d have to drink from a human that was plastered.” He took a sip of his drink, and as he eyed the impressive stock of alcohol collected in the White House kitchen, he was struck with an idea. When he was sober Bernie had the sense to not listen to his pleas to turn him, but what if he was inebriated? Donald downed the rest of his drink in one gulp, grabbed a rather large bottle of vodka, and rushed to let Pence in. He had to act quickly if this was going to work. Pence greeted him with a hug and a kiss and started to head off to the bedroom, but Donald stopped him and presented him with the vodka.

“Mikey, I need you to do something that’s gonna help me out bigly,” He explained, “I need you to drink all of this and get totally wasted.”

“But Donald, overindulging in alcohol is a sin!” Mike panicked. “Why do you want me to do it?”

“It might be a sin, but it’s for a saintly purpose. Now drink up, and be quick about it!” Mike didn’t ask any further questions; he started chugging the vodka and in no time at all he got wasted as fuck. Donald grinned deviously; he could now enact his half-assed plan. He set the vodka aside and dragged Mike back to his room, where Bernie was waiting.

“What’s up with Pence?” Bernie asked, noticing the vice president’s drunken stupor. “He doesn’t have COVID, does he?”

“No, he’s all good! I just made him down some vodka so you could get buzzed off his blood,” Donald explained, “You looked like you could use a drink after all the bullshit you’ve put up with from those crooked Democrats!”

“Oh, Donald, that’s uncharacteristically thoughtful of you,” Bernie replied, not finding Trump’s act of kindness suspicious at all, “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Enjoy your drink, and then the two of us can go to bed.” Donald shoved Pence towards Bernie; Pence stumbled forward and fell into Bernie’s awaiting arms, too out of it to protest being bitten. Bernie sank his teeth into Mike’s neck, taking a long drink, and then he dropped him onto the floor and crawled into bed with Donald to have sex. Pence crawled over to the bathroom, spent the next twenty minutes hunched over the toilet puking, and then passed out on the floor. The boozed up blood was starting to affect Bernie now; he was too wasted at this point to keep up with the sex. He rolled off of Donald, felt Donald snuggle up against him, and then blacked out. The next morning he woke up with a splitting headache, a headache which was made even worse by the sounds of loud, violent puking emanating from the bathroom. Thinking that it was Pence, Bernie floated out of bed and touched down in front of the bathroom door to investigate. He cracked the door open slightly and was met with a sight that perplexed him. Pence was indeed in the bathroom as he’d suspected, but he was still passed out on the floor. It was Donald who was throwing up. He was hunched over the toilet, shivering tremendously, his mane of blonde hair damp with sweat and clinging to his forehead. Bernie didn’t understand why Donald was so ill; he hadn’t been drunk the night before so there was no reason for him to be bowing before the toilet now. Remembering the pandemic, Bernie began to worry that Donald had caught COVID, and that he could possibly be infected. Donald lifted his head from the toilet bowl and grabbed a can of Diet Coke off of the counter, shakily bringing it to his lips. The second he took a sip he tossed the can down on the floor and started throwing up again as the Diet Coke began to pool across the tile.

“Donald?” Bernie called his name. “Are you alright? Do you need a doctor?”

“Oh, Bernie!” Donald exclaimed, surprised by his presence. “No, it’s just a hangover! I, uh, I had a few drinks myself after you passed out!”

“You haven’t been around anyone who’s been exposed to COVID lately, have you?” Bernie prodded. “All of the research being done by vampire doctors is pointing towards vampires being just as susceptible to the virus as humans, so I can’t have you making me sick!”

“No, nobody in my circle’s been near the Chinese Virus.” Donald assured him. “You won’t catch the Kung Flu from me.” Bernie rolled his eyes at his husband’s offensive nicknames for the virus and approached him, kneeling down at Donald’s side and placing his hand upon Donald’s forehead. He didn’t feel warm so it was unlikely he had a fever, but Bernie did sense something strange now that he was so close to him. He could feel a faint, odd presence. It almost felt like the sensation he got when he was around other vampires, but very muted. Brushing it off as a weird hangover symptom, he helped Donald to his feet and guided him back to the bed. Pence finally rose from the floor and took Donald’s place at the toilet, puking his guts out while Bernie fluffed the pillows for Donald.

“You might not have COVID, but you clearly have something, Donald,” He huffed, “So you need to get some rest.” Donald nodded and crawled into bed. As he moved to get comfortable his robe slipped off of his shoulder, and Bernie spied a telltale bite mark at the base of his neck. He remembered biting Pence last evening, but he couldn’t remember biting Donald. Perhaps he’d taken a nip at him while he was drunk.

“Are you gonna stay and cuddle?” Donald asked.

“I have to get back to the senate so we can try and get some COVID relief passed, although that’s unlikely to happen with Mitch blocking everything,” Bernie replied,

“Maybe we can cuddle later tonight.”

“Well, can I get a goodbye kiss then?” Donald requested. Bernie made a face at him.

“You just got done puking. I don’t want to kiss you on the mouth right now.” Donald was undeterred.

“How about a kiss on the forehead then?”

“Ugh, fine.” Bernie leaned down to kiss his forehead, but when he reached out to brush Donald’s hair out of his face and got a clear look at his eyes Bernie noticed something that shifted his mood from mildly irritated to completely fucking panicked. Donald’s eyes were not their usual shade of light blue; they seemed to be darkening. Darkening into a reddish hue.

“Oh no,” Bernie gasped, staggering backwards, “Oh, NO!” Donald flashed him a sinister smile, and Bernie’s distress grew tenfold when he noticed that his husband’s canine teeth were starting to develop fine points, much like his own fangs.

“Oh yes,” Donald smirked, “I told you, Bernie, I always get what I want. I want to be a vampire, and thanks to you I’m well on my way to that!”

“You motherfucker!” Bernie swore, “I can’t believe this! You got me drunk and coerced me into turning you!”

“And now I’m gonna be a vampire too!” Trump boasted. “It’s gonna be great! I can finally expose the liberal vampires in congress since you won’t expose them for me! I can create a whole army of vampire republicans to serve me and we can dine on democrat humans, and it’s all thanks to you! What do you have to say about that?” For once, Bernie was utterly speechless. He had no idea what he could say, what he could do, how he could possibly undo the damage that he had done. Not wanting to be in Trump’s presence anymore, he stormed out of the room.

It was hard for him to leave the White House discreetly during the day-whenever he visited Donald he tended to come and go late at night under the cover of darkness-but he managed to get out undetected and made his way to his Washington apartment to freshen up and gather his thoughts before heading in to the senate. He felt as if he was in a daze, found it impossible to pay attention as his colleagues argued over COVID relief, found his thoughts swirling around the horrible deed he had done. He didn’t know how to fix this on his own, or if it could even be fixed, so as he left the senate that evening Bernie very reluctantly came to the realization that he would have to call upon a former adversary for help. Despite being a human Hillary was well versed in vampire literature, and if anyone would know any way to reverse the turning process it would likely be her. Elizabeth knew that he was a vampire and was also very learned in vampire texts, but Bernie didn’t want to ask her for assistance, as she was still very angry about how he’d treated her during the primaries and would grow even angrier if she knew that he was shacking up with her opponent. Hillary wouldn’t be terribly pleased to see him either, but she at least already knew about his and Donald’s relationship, and he could count on her to not go public about it like Elizabeth might. He made his way from Washington to her residence in Chappaqua as quickly as he could and managed to float inside through an open window. The room he had entered was enveloped in darkness, but he could see just fine with his superior vampire vision. It appeared to be Bill and Hillary’s bedroom, as there was a personal element to it, photos of them and their daughter and grandchildren that likely wouldn’t have been present in a room reserved for guests. Bernie had heard some of the other senators talking about Bill and Hillary going to do a rally for Elizabeth in Pennsylvania, and he couldn’t sense Bill’s vampiric presence nearby, so he figured that they were still out and decided to hide in their closet and wait until they came back. He didn’t have to wait long, as about ten minutes later he heard the sound of footsteps approaching. Bernie quietly nudged the closet door open a crack, allowing himself to peer out into the bedroom without being spotted. Hillary had entered, although Bill wasn’t with her. The room was still pretty dark, as she hadn’t switched on the lights and the light coming in from the hall was dim, but Bernie could see her quite clearly, and as much as he hated to admit it he liked what he saw. She looked beautiful in that striking white pantsuit she seemed so fond of, accented with simple jewelry, her face lightly made up, soft blonde hair perfectly coiffed. Bernie resented her, resented that she had won the nomination over him last time, resented that Elizabeth had picked her to be on the ticket instead of him this time, but damn if he didn’t think she was sexy.

“If only I’d managed to get her beneath me, both in the polls and in bed,” He thought to himself, “That would’ve been fun.” He had tried once to seduce her after their first primary debate, had tried to persuade her to let him sample her blood and her body, but she wanted nothing to do with him. He quickly discovered that aside from hot sauce she also had a tendency to keep a clove of garlic in her purse for warding off vampires who got too close. Bernie watched as Hillary removed her jewelry, placing it on her nightstand, and began unbuttoning her blazer. He watched her undress, watched as she took everything off except for her underwear, a simple white satin bra and panties set with a bit of lace trimming. She placed her suit atop her dresser and then laid down on her bed, resting seductively on one side with her arm draped across her waist as if she were a model posing for a centerfold. Bill walked into the room just then, and Bernie could see that he had his mask down, could see the scarlet eyes and pointed fangs he kept hidden from the public. Bill paused a moment to admire his wife, a fanged grin crossing his face as he looked her over.

“Oh, I thought you were just going to bare your neck to me, I didn’t realize you were gonna bare the rest of yourself too,” He smirked playfully, “Not that I’m complaining.”

“I don’t want any blood dripping on my pantsuit since it’s white,” Hillary told him, “I don’t know how I’d explain that to the dry cleaners.” Bill joined her on the bed, drawing his arms around her waist and pulling her close so he could spoon her. He brought one of his hands up to brush her hair away from her face and kissed her cheek.

“Your hair’s gotten long.” He noted, twirling a lock of her hair in his fingers.

“So has yours,” She replied, “You should start growing a quarantine beard too. I bet you’d look handsome with one.”

“I’m already handsome.” He chuckled, and though Hillary rolled her eyes she couldn’t help but smile.

“Yeah, you are,” She agreed, “Why don’t you come bite me, handsome?” Bill didn’t need to be told twice; he lowered his head and bit down on her neck, taking a long drink from her. Bernie could smell her blood, sweet and inviting, and even though he’d just been sated by Donald the other night the scent made his mouth water. He hated that he simultaneously resented and wanted her, and he was jealous that Bill got to have both her body and her blood. As he watched Bill drink, Bernie noticed something that perplexed him. Hillary was crying. She wasn’t making any noise, but he could see tears streaming down her cheeks. From Bernie’s own experience biting humans he knew it seldom if ever made them cry, it was no more painful than being pricked with a needle and it was definitely something that Hillary could handle, so why the tears? Having had his fill of blood, Bill lifted his head from Hillary’s neck and leaned in to kiss her, but he must have noticed her crying too, as he pulled back and gave her a concerned look.

“What’s wrong, honey?” He asked her, stroking her cheek. “Did I bite down on you too hard? Did I grab you too tight and bruise you?”

“Don’t worry, you didn’t hurt me,” She assured him, sniffling a bit as she reached up to wipe at her eyes, “I’ve just got a lot weighing on my mind right now and it’s making me emotional. It’s hard to explain how I’m feeling.”

“Will you try to explain it to me? Please?” Bill pleaded. “What’s making you feel like this?”

“Seeing all of our supporters at the rally today was really heartening. Even after all that’s happened they still believe in me, they still love me, and I don’t know if I deserve that after everything that happened last time,” She confided in him, “I don’t know if Liz should have picked me for her ticket. She took a huge risk by picking me. I’ll help keep the ticket balanced and help her win support from more moderate voters, but she could have picked anyone else to do that, and we’re both being hit with the sexism and misogyny that would’ve been offset by having a man on the ticket. She could have and probably should have picked a man as her running mate like I did with Tim. I don’t know if the country will accept a ticket with two women on it, let alone a ticket with the person who lost the last election on it. Half the country loves me, but the other half can’t stand me, and as much as I want to believe that four years of Trump would get voters to put aside any problems they have with me or with Liz to vote for us I’m not sure that I can believe it. I’m very glad and very grateful for this opportunity, I want to do right by our country, but I don’t know if I deserve this.”

“You do deserve this, Hillary! You deserve this and so much more!” Bill told her, “Not to diminish what Liz has accomplished, she’s impressive in her own right, but you should be president right now. We should be reelecting you and Tim right now. You got more votes, the people wanted you, and Liz is giving them another chance to have you! The two of you are gonna do great things together and drag this country out of the hole Trump has put it in! You might not be president, but vice president’s nothing to scoff at, and nothing would make me happier than to be your Second Gentleman.”

“This is some fucking bullshit,” Bernie thought to himself, “Neither she nor Liz should be on this ticket. The least Liz could have done was pick me as the running mate, but she had to go and be petty…” He watched as Hillary leaned in to kiss Bill, silently thanking him for the reassurance.

“I love you.” She murmured as he nuzzled her hair.

“I love you too,” He replied, “And I’m gonna show you how much I love you. I’ll kiss you everywhere.” Bernie learned pretty quickly that “everywhere” included some rather intimate areas. He was surprised that Bill hadn’t sensed him yet, but he knew from his own experience that being distracted by other things-or other people-could dampen the sense. He’d been so distracted by Trump and his Twilight nonsense that one night four years ago that he hadn’t sensed Bill hiding under their bed. He decided not to reveal himself quite yet and watched as things got more and more sensual between Bill and Hillary, taking great glee in knowing that he was intruding upon such a personal, private moment. They were making love now, and Bill suddenly tensed up.

“What’s wrong?” Hillary asked him, running her fingers through his striking white hair. He tightened his hold on her as if to protect her from some unseen danger, and his eyes darted about the room, searching the darkness.

“Can you get off of me?” He requested, gently nudging her to coax her off of himself. “Just for a little while.”

“Oh, you want to be on top now?” She asked.

“No! Well, maybe later,” Bill replied, “I need to get out of bed for a minute. We’re not alone. There’s another vampire around here; I can sense it.” Hillary shifted off of him to allow him to get out of bed and start searching. She laid back among the pillows and grimaced as Bill surveyed the room, already having an idea of who had decided to pay them a visit.

“I swear to God, if Bernie got into our house-” She started to say as Bill approached the closet, and before he could discover their intruder, Bernie swung the door open and revealed himself.

“Looking for me?” He smirked. Hillary let out a shriek and clutched the sheets to her chest to cover herself while Bill swore loudly and staggered back against the bed.

“What the fuck!” He shouted. “How long were you in there?!”

“Long enough to see your wife come in and strip down,” Bernie replied smugly, “You look even nicer in your panties than you do in your pantsuits, Hillary!”

“You’re lucky I left my purse at the door,” She seethed, “Because if I had it with me right now you’d be convulsing on the floor with a garlic clove stuffed in your mouth.”

“Not a fan of garlic, but there’s one thing I wouldn’t mind having stuffed in my mouth…” Bernie leered, gazing down at Bill’s crotch. “Mind if I join you guys in bed?” The unamused glares that Bill and Hillary met him with gave him his answer. “Well, okay then. No threeway I guess, and it’s probably not a good idea to have one anyways with COVID going around. But I didn’t come here to sleep with you two; I’m here because I need to talk to you about something important.”

“Can it wait?” Bill asked. “We’re kind of busy right now.”

“More like getting busy!” Bernie jeered, earning more glares from the Clintons. He winced, and figuring that he should probably stop with the taunts before Bill decided to kick the shit out of him or Hillary found her garlic purse, he floated out of the closet and started to make his way towards the door. “Fine, fine! I’ll give you your privacy; come get me when you’re done.” He floated out into the hallway and closed the door behind him, leaning against the wall while he waited for them to finish. Bernie’s unexpected appearance must have killed the mood for them, as it didn’t take very long before Hillary opened the door and peered out. She was wearing Bill’s shirt to cover herself, it was long enough on her that it fit her almost like a very short dress, and she had put on a face mask so they could converse without worrying about making each other sick. Bill joined her side, also wearing a face mask, but not bothering to put anything else on. Bernie stepped back a few feet from them-partially to social distance and partially because he was still kind of worried that Bill might try to beat him up and wanted ample space to flee if he had to-and he put on his own mask.

“Okay, Bernie,” Hillary addressed him, “Tell us why you’re here and maybe I’ll spare you from the garlic.”

“Look, I know we haven’t gotten along in the past,” Bernie sighed, disliking this just as much as she did, “But I really need your help. I fucked up, I fucked up badly, and I can’t fix it on my own. I bit Trump last night!”

“Why’s that a problem?” Bill asked. “Aren’t you married? Don’t you bite him regularly?”

“It’s a problem because this time I, uh… well, I kind of… turned him…” Bernie chuckled sheepishly. Bill and Hillary’s expressions immediately shifted; they looked just as distressed as they had on election night four years ago.

“Oh my God! Oh my fucking God!” Hillary cried, touching her fingertips to her brow and shaking her head in despair. “Do you realize what you’ve done? The country is BEYOND fucked now! Pretty soon we’re all going to be at the mercy of the Volkov coven!” Bernie wasn’t familiar with that particular coven and wasn’t sure why Hillary seemed so worried about it, but he decided not to ask questions right now.

“I wasn’t in my right mind when I did it! Donald tricked me!” He defended himself, “He got me drunk! He made Pence drink a ton of vodka and offered him up to me to drink from in what I thought was a nice gesture, but it was all just so he could coax me into turning him! I swear I would have never turned him if I’d been sober!”

“Okay, first of all, Trump’s plan was half-assed as hell and you’re a fucking idiot for falling for it,” Bill berated him, “When has that man ever been nice to anyone unless it was to get something he wanted? Second of all, oh my God we are so fucked! You don’t even know how fucked we are! Every human and dhampir in this country is in danger because of what you did! When the Volkov coven learns that Trump’s been turned-and it will learn-then it’s all over!”

“But isn’t there some way to reverse the process?” Bernie inquired. “It’s only been a day since I’ve bitten him; we still have two days to do something before he’s finished turning. Did Stefani ever write any tomes on how to stop the turning process? Is there a way to do that? I only have his most mainstream works in my personal collection, but do you have anything he may have written that would be of use to me?”

“Have you ever read Stefani’s tome on his experiments with vampire venom?” Hillary asked him. Bernie shook his head. “Well, Bill and I don’t own a copy of that one, but we have read it. It was a long time ago, though.”

“Oh, I remember that one! We read it while we were studying law at Yale,” Said Bill, “It was soon after Hillary figured out I was a vampire. We had just started dating; she’d stumbled across the first Stefani tome in the library and was able to piece things together from what she read in it. After she found out about me we went looking for more tomes together and found out that the library had an extensive collection of them.”

“We used to check them out from the library and have little ‘dates’ where we’d sit and read them together, and one day we read the tome about Stefani’s experiments with vampire venom,” Hillary continued, “I can’t remember the title, but I do remember that the cover was blue. It mostly detailed Stefani’s experiments to study the venom’s composition and mechanism of action, but there was a small section on using it as a way to cancel out the turning process.”

“Wow, what a wonderful solution!” Bernie muttered sarcastically. “To stop the effects of the venom you give the person more venom.”

“That’s not how it works, you idiot,” Bill sneered, “You use the venom to create an antidote. It’s sort of similar to how they make antivenom for snake bites.”

“Oh. Well, good!” Bernie breathed a sigh of relief now that he knew there was a way to fix this. “So I just take some of my venom and make it into an antidote?”

“You’d need more than just your venom,” Said Bill, “The recipe required a lot of venom for it to be potent enough to work, more than a single vampire could produce. You’d need several vampires to get enough. It also required a couple other ingredients and steps, but I can’t recall what they were.”

“We really don’t want anything to do with you after all the bullshit you’ve pulled, but if we don’t do something Trump will obtain even more power he has no business possessing and become a tool of the Volkov coven, so we’ll help you stop him from turning,” Hillary agreed, “Keeping Trump from becoming even more dangerous is our top priority right now.”

“I’ll give you some of my venom before you go to help you start off,” Bill told him, “But you’re probably gonna have to ask some of your colleagues in congress for help. And you need the tome for the recipe. The Library of Congress has a copy of every Stefani tome, so when you get back to Washington you should look there.”

“I’d talk to Liz first if I were you,” Hillary advised, “She knows a few other vampires in congress and can put you in touch with them. She’s still pretty upset with you for attacking her during the primaries, but I know she considers you a friend, however ill advised that might be, and she’ll put any bad feelings about you behind her for the time being to help you fix this mess.”

“Got it. Go to the Library of Congress, get the recipe, get the venom, make the antidote. Now if you’ll just give me your venom,” Bernie said, turning to Bill, “I’ll gladly be on my way and you two can have all the sex you want in peace.” Bill and Hillary rolled their eyes at this and headed into the kitchen with Bernie following behind them. Bill retrieved a disposable plastic cup from one of the cabinets while Hillary went to the fridge and poured herself a rather large glass of Chardonnay. Bernie watched her chug the whole thing and then immediately pour herself another. He didn’t blame her for drinking at a time like this; if he was human he probably would’ve been drinking as well. Turning away from Hillary and her wine, Bernie saw Bill finish securing some plastic wrap over the top of the cup with a rubber band. He raised it to his mouth, stuck the plastic wrap with his fangs, and filled the cup with about enough venom to fill a shot glass. With the venom in hand, Bernie finally left the Clintons alone and returned to Washington for the night. The next morning he went looking for the tome he needed in the Library of Congress. He eventually managed to locate it, an unwieldy, ancient looking book with a dull, velvety blue cover. In black calligraphy the title “Empirical Analyses of the Properties of Vampire Venom” was written, followed by the name of the author, Monte Stefani, the most renowned scholar of vampires in the western hemisphere and a famed human confidant of the peaceful Zanna coven of vampires. Bernie opened the book and began frantically searching for anything about ceasing the turning process. There was an entire section on experiments Stefani and his wife Scarlatta had conducted to study vampire venom, and Bernie found a page devoted to an experiment that proved the turning process could be halted and reversed.

“While there is so far no known way to revert a completely turned vampire back into a human or transform someone who has been a vampire from birth into a human, Scarlatta and I have discovered an elixir that nullifies the turning process,” Bernie read to himself, “We have determined that it is effective at ceasing the process up to three days after the initial injection of venom, but on the fourth day the process is fully complete and the elixir will have no effect. The elixir is administered orally and can be given either by itself or as an additive in food or drink. After administration it takes roughly one half hour for the elixir to go into effect. The human will often experience a headache and jaw pain as their fangs revert back to normal canines, but will otherwise be free from side effects.” Beneath the summary of the elixir was the recipe Stefani had used for it and the experimental methods he and his wife had used to determine its effects. Bernie took a photo of the recipe on his phone, placed the tome back where it belonged, and made his way to the Senate office buildings. Now it was time to appeal to Elizabeth for help.

Bernie had tried texting her the previous evening, but she didn’t reply. He tried calling, but she wouldn’t pick up. It seemed like he would have to visit her in person to have any hope of talking to her. He made his way to Elizabeth’s office, figuring that this was where she was most likely to be. He found her seated at her desk calling her supporters to personally thank them for their contributions to her campaign. While she was happy and cheerful on her call, her face shifted into a glare upon noticing Bernie. She hung up the phone, grabbed a Warren face mask from her desk, and put it on before addressing him.

“Oh. Bernie.” She greeted him coldly, “What do you want?”

“Lower your mask.” He requested.

“No thanks, I’d rather not catch COVID.” She scoffed.

“Not your face mask, you idiot!” Bernie sneered. “Your other mask. We need to talk, vampire to vampire.” Elizabeth rolled her eyes but complied and concentrated on dispelling her mask as Bernie did the same. Dark ruby-red eyes met his scarlet ones, and though he couldn’t see it behind her mask Bernie imagined that a fanged grimace was currently present on her face.

“Okay. What do you want?”

“I need your help, and your venom,” He told her, “I did something bad! I got drunk and accidentally turned someone who I never would have turned while sober!”

“Oh God, did you end up biting McConnell or something?” Elizabeth groaned. “You’d better not have bitten McConnell. Having a Republican vampire in charge of the senate would be a disaster.”

“Well, good news, it wasn’t McConnell and there won’t be a vampire leading the senate,” Bernie assured her, “Bad news. If we aren’t successful, we may soon have a vampire president.” Elizabeth’s eyes widened in shock as she realized just who Bernie had bitten, and that shock quickly morphed into unbridled fury.

“You son of a bitch!” She swore at him. “You bit Trump? Oh, if I wasn’t social distancing I’d strangle you right now! Out of all the people in Washington you could feed on you pick Donald fucking Trump?!”

“Well, he and I are married, so of course I’ll be feeding off of him.” Bernie replied. “Surprise, I’m the secret First Gentleman.” Elizabeth said nothing for a moment, too shocked to even come up with a response. She finally let out a deep sigh, followed by a loud curse as her glasses fogged up due to her mask. She removed them to wipe them clean on her blazer and shook her head as she regarded Bernie.

“Bernie, all I can say about your ‘husband’ is that I hope Hillary and I kick his ass out of office in a couple months,” Elizabeth grumbled, “But even that won’t fix the massive fucking mess you’ve just made. It’s only August; even if we beat him he’ll still be in office until January. That’s plenty of time for the Volkov coven to find out he’s turned, plenty of time for them to use him.” 

“He’s not going to turn! I have a way to reverse the turning process!” Bernie announced. “But I need your help, and we need to hurry.” He told Elizabeth about his meeting with the Clintons, leaving out the part where he spied on them having sex, showed her his photo of the antidote recipe, and practically begged her to put him in touch with any other vampires she was familiar with so he’d have enough venom to actually make the antidote. Elizabeth eventually agreed to hold a Zoom meeting later that evening and invite all of the other vampires she knew to it. She also said she would discuss things with Hillary and Bill and that they would come to the meeting too to help figure out a plan.

Later that evening Bernie sat in his apartment with his laptop out and clicked the link Elizabeth had sent him to join the Zoom meeting, setting his screen name to “The Bern”. Elizabeth hadn’t joined quite yet, but it seemed like everyone she had invited was there. Nobody had their cameras on and their mics were all muted, but Bernie could see all the usernames and had a pretty good idea of who all of the attendees were based off of that. Some of the names were fairly normal, “HRC and Husband”, “K. Harris”, “K. Gillibrand”, and “A. Klobuchar” were all easy to identify. Then there were the goofy names, “No Malarkey”, “Cory in the House”, “Daddy Swalwell”, “Robert Francis”, “Not Joaquin”, and “Booty Judge”, though despite the silly names Bernie could piece together who they all were as well. Elizabeth had told him before setting up the meeting that everyone attending was a vampire except for Hillary, but Bernie was surprised by the sheer amount of vampires that had run for president this time around. He’d known ever since she first joined the senate that Elizabeth was a vampire, and he’d been able to sense strong vampiric presence on the debate stage that told him there were definitely more vampires than just her and himself there, but he could never determine an exact amount. Suddenly Bernie heard a loud, rustling noise that sounded like something being unwrapped, followed by chewing sounds. It seemed that someone was having a snack and had accidentally unmuted their mic. Robert Francis’ icon was lit up.

“Beto, your mic’s unmuted.” Pointed out Not Joaquin, who Bernie recognized as Julián Castro.

“Oh fuck,” Swore Robert Francis, who was evidently Beto O’Rourke, “Sorry, guys. I know it’s a little later on the east coast but it’s dinner time in Texas. I’m eating some takeout from Whataburger.”

“Nice, I’m eating some ice cream right now,” Said No Malarkey, who was very obviously Joe Biden, “It’s cookies and cream flavored.” Joe started his video so he could show off the rather large tub of cookies and cream he was enjoying. Bernie had long assumed that Biden was a human given his famous affinity for ice cream, as most vampires couldn’t stomach human food, but the deep red eyes and fangs he was sporting in the video gave away his true nature.

“How can you eat that sludge?” Bernie asked as he started his own video. “When I do events at Ben and Jerry’s it’s hard for me to keep just the free samples they offer down to fool them into thinking I’m human. I could never eat as much as you do.”

“I just like the texture and the temperature of it,” Joe explained, “Oh, and it smells good too.”

“Do you not like any human food at all, dude?” Beto asked. “I mean, I hate most of it myself, but I like everything at Whataburger. The spicy ketchup slaps.”

“No! It’s all disgusting!” Bernie gagged. “Just thinking about human food makes me sick to my stomach!” Before anyone could say anything else the theme to a very familiar Disney show began playing very, very loudly across the Zoom call.

We've got Cory, Cory, Cory in the house  
Cory, Cory, Cory check it out  
He's gonna shake it up and change it  
Take it all and rearrange it  
Got a new plan, hey Uncle Sam!  
We've got Cory in the House! 

If the nature of the song didn’t already give it away, Cory in the House’s mic was lit up, marking them as the culprit behind the mic spamming.

“Hey, turn that off!” Eric Swalwell’s voice cut in as Daddy Swalwell’s icon lit up, “I don’t have my headphones in and my kids are napping!”

“Yeah, and you’re scaring my dogs!” Complained Pete Buttigieg as Booty Judge’s icon lit up with the sounds of dogs barking loudly in the background.

“Stop fucking mic spamming, Cory!” Demanded K. Harris, “You’re not even going to be in the White House because you aren’t the nominee.”

“Whatever, Kamala,” Cory Booker grumbled as Cory in the House’s icon went dim and the song switched off, “You’re not going to be in the White House either!” A notification appeared showing that somebody had typed something in the chat box. Bernie opened it up to look at it. It was A. Klobuchar asking everyone how to join audio.

“Amy, did you get a prompt telling you to join with computer audio when you joined the meeting?” Asked K. Gillibrand. “If not then you need to call in!”

“Okay, I’m in now!” A. Klobuchar announced after a moment. “Thanks Kirsten!” It was then that Elizabeth finally popped onto the Zoom meeting. She hadn’t given herself a silly name and had put her name simply as “Sen. Warren”. She turned her camera on, and so did everyone else who didn’t already have it on. Everyone was looking rather rough; the combination of the election stress, the GOP blocking covid relief, and the pandemic ravaging the country was taking a toll on all of them.

“Good evening, everyone,” Elizabeth greeted them, “Well, good evening to everyone on the east coast at least. It’s not quite evening for Julián, Beto, and Pete yet. Thank you all for agreeing to meet on such short notice.”

“We’re here because Bernie did something really stupid.” Hillary continued.

“You need to be more specific,” Joe advised them, “He’s done a lot of stupid shit.”

“Oh, like you haven’t.” Bernie sneered. “Please tell me more about how ‘poor kids are just as smart as white kids’, Joe.”

“We’re not talking about Joe right now, Bernie!” Elizabeth snapped at him, “We’re talking about you! Anyways, Bernie here decided that it would be a good idea to drink from Trump and got tricked into turning him.” The other vampires were outraged by this; the Zoom call exploded with the sounds of all of them talking over each other despairing and complaining and chewing out Bernie for the catastrophic thing he had done.

“In my defense I was drunk when it happened,” Bernie countered lamely amongst the various protests, “If I’d been sober I wouldn’t have done it.”

“Fortunately it’s only been two days since it’s happened,” Bill cut in as all the noise died down, “The turning process can be stopped, but we need to act fast. If we don’t stop it by tomorrow evening then we can’t stop it at all.”

“I visited Bill and Hillary last night for advice,” Bernie informed everyone, “Normally I want nothing to do with them, but they’ve studied basically the entire collection of Stefani tomes, so I figured if anyone would know a way to stop it it’d be them.”

“Oh, that wasn’t a visit,” Hillary grumbled, “It was an intrusion.”

“You snuck into our house!” Bill reminded him angrily.

“Man, why are you guys so mad about him sneaking in?” Beto asked. “I mean, it’s not great that he did that, but it’s not like he walked in on you two while you were fucking or anything.” Hillary blushed at this and looked down at the floor. As a vampire, Bill was incapable of blushing, but he did seem rather mortified as well, while Bernie put on the smuggest grin he could manage. Beto-and everyone else on the call-realized pretty quickly what had happened. They couldn’t blush either, but they all appeared very flustered, bearing expressions ranging from winces to mildly disgusted grimaces to wide-eyed surprise.

“OH FUCK!” Beto gasped. “He did? He walked in on you doing it? Oh, oh fuck, ew! Old people getting it on! Now the mental image of that is going to haunt me forever!”

“I honestly didn’t think you guys still had sex after Bill’s scandal,” Kirsten admitted, “I didn’t think that you’d even still sleep in the same bed as each other after that! But I guess I was wrong.” Bill and Hillary gave her a withering look.

“Did you expect us to each have a separate twin bed like couples on old black and white sitcoms?” Hillary scoffed. “No, Kirsten! Of course Bill and I sleep in the same bed!”

“And sleep with each other in it.” Bernie smirked. “Too bad you wouldn’t let me join you.”

“Ugh, you wanted a threeway with them?” Beto retched. “What the fuck, man! I don’t need to picture that! I don’t want to picture old men on top of Hillary’s naked body!”

“Hey! You better watch yourself, O’Rourke!” Bill scolded him. “Hillary’s got a beautiful body!”

“I never said she wasn’t beautiful, dude,” Beto defended himself, “I just don’t want to think about you on top of her fucking her!”

“Bill wasn’t on top.” Bernie cut in, earning shocked gasps and uncomfortable nervous laughter from most of the attendees while Bill and Hillary looked as if they wanted to murder him.

“I swear to God I will make the drive from New York to Washington just to smear garlic all over you if you don’t shut the fuck up right now,” Hillary threatened him, “This is your last warning.”

“You’re playing a dangerous game here, Sanders,” Bill told him, “If you keep sharing details about our sex life Hillary and I are gonna start sharing details about yours. It’ll be mutually assured destruction.”

“Okay everyone, that’s enough. Let’s leave Bill and Hillary and their sex life alone,” Elizabeth spoke up, trying to take back control of the meeting, “None of us would be happy if somebody intruded in on a private moment like that, but I’m sure Bernie didn’t do it deliberately and that the threeway comment is a joke.”

“It was very fucking deliberate on his part!” Hillary shot back. “He didn’t just walk in on us! He was hiding in our closet and watching!” Everyone gave Bernie varying looks of disgust.

“For fuck’s sake, Bernie!” Elizabeth swore, finally losing her temper, “Why’d you do that?”

“Gross! Do you get off on watching other people like that?” Cory inquired, looking appalled. “Were you rubbing one out in their closet while you watched them do it?”

“No, voyeurism isn’t a turn on for me.” Bernie replied.

“Well, watching them having sex seems pretty voyeuristic to me,” Amy pointed out, “How else would you explain that?” 

“He did it to get back at us!” Bill surmised. “He’s been fucking Trump ever since 2016, and one time Hillary and I accidentally caught him doing it, and I guess to him that’s as bad as deliberately hiding in someone’s closet and watching them fuck!”

“And Pence was there too!” Hillary added, “He’s been fucking Pence too! The weekend after the last election we broke into Trump Tower and were going to leave dog shit in Trump’s bed as a prank-don’t ask, it’s a long story-but Trump, Pence, and Bernie showed up before we could do it so we had to hide under Trump’s bed while they all fooled around!”

“Ew, ew, gross!” Beto gagged. “I mean, Bernie, dude, it’s fine if you like men, I don’t give a shit about your preferences, but out of all the men you could fuck you pick Trump and Pence?”

“You’re sleeping with the enemy-literally!” Pete pointed out. “If I can live in a red state and still manage to avoid getting into bed with a Republican man then you have no excuse! I’m sure Vermont is full of left wing men you can sleep with!”

“Okay, so Bernie, I get that you’re probably mad that Bill and Hillary hid under the bed while you were getting busy,” Eric conceded, “But they weren’t watching you do it like you were watching them.”

“They could probably hear you if you’re as loud in bed as you are on the debate stage.” Julián scoffed insultingly.

“Oh yes, we got an earful,” Hillary muttered, “Even though I was very drunk those unholy noises are forever seared into my brain.”

“That night was a mess,” Said Bill, “I’m glad I was drunk so a lot of it is hazy for me. I mostly just remember the sex noises and then Trump crying over the Breaking Dawn ending and proposing to Bernie.”

“He did what?!” Elizabeth exclaimed, her fury towards Bernie reaching new heights. “Bernie! You’re fucking married to him!?”

“Not legally!” Bernie was quick to reply. “It’s a common law sort of thing! He gave me a ring and that’s all, we’re married in name only, not on paper!”

“But he still proposed to you, and you still said yes.” Kamala reminded him. “Why the fuck would that ever seem like a good idea to you?”

“I wasn’t too into it when he first suggested it because I didn’t want anyone to find out about us, but he pointed out that since we’re adversaries in public no one would suspect that we had a close relationship in private,” Bernie explained, “So I accepted the ring. I thought I could justify separating our public and private relationships, I thought I could ignore all the horrid things he and his administration did when we were spending time together, but I can’t do that anymore. Not after this stunt he’s pulled.”

“So all of the horrible shit he’s done while in office didn’t convince you to dump his ass?” Hillary scoffed. “You only came to your senses after he tricked you into turning him?”

“Oh, you be quiet!” Bernie shot back. “Your husband cheating didn’t convince you to leave him!”

“My husband didn’t let tens of thousands of Americans needlessly die in a pandemic!” Hillary pointed out. “Unlike yours!”

“Why don’t you get off the Zoom meeting and go hop back on his dick, then?” Bernie sneered.

“Hey, that’s sexist!” Kirsten scolded him. “You go hop on a dick instead, Bernie!”

“Can we please stop talking about old people having sex, guys?” Pete requested. “I don’t want to spend another minute thinking about anyone over the age of fifty getting it on.”

“Hey, older folks need some loving too, kid!” Joe chided him. “I still like to fuck, and I do it very well. Jill always leaves our bed satisfied!” 

“Joe, for the love of all that is holy, please shut the fuck up,” Hillary groaned, “Literally no one asked you. We’re not here to discuss everybody’s sex life, we’re here to talk about how we’re going to reverse the turning process so Trump doesn’t turn, and we’re running out of time, so let’s start talking about that. One of the Stefani tomes covers Stefani and Scarlatta’s experiments with vampire venom, and it contains a recipe for an antidote to the vampire turning process. One of the key ingredients for this antidote is venom, more venom than a single vampire can produce.”

“Bill’s already given Bernie some of his venom for it, but we need more vampires to give the required amount for the recipe,” Elizabeth explained, “That’s where you all come in. I need you to come to my apartment in Washington as soon as possible. I’ve already gathered all the other ingredients we need and I’ll give some of my venom too, but we need venom from you guys too and we need it now. I’m sorry to call upon you all to meet in person in these unprecedented times, but it’s very important. Bernie doesn’t deserve our help-he’s treated all of us terribly, he’s treated our supporters terribly, he’s sent his surrogates after us, he’s lied about us, he screwed Hillary over last time, he’s damaged our party going into this election, and I’m personally very disappointed in the way he turned on me after I was nothing but kind to him, because he very nearly cost me the nomination, but this is bigger than him, this is bigger than all of us. Yes, Bernie doesn’t deserve our help, but the American people deserve to not have a president with even more powers he hasn’t earned and doesn’t know how to properly wield. Trump becoming a vampire will be especially dangerous for humans and dhampirs if and when his buddy Putin learns that he’s been turned.” Hillary, Bill, and Joe all grew uneasy at the mention of Putin, but the other vampires seemed confused.

“How does Putin fit into this?” Bernie asked.

“Putin is also a vampire,” Joe revealed, “And if that’s not bad enough, he’s associated with the Volkov coven.” All the vampires except Bernie were shaken to their cores by this.

“The Volkov coven!” Kirsten gasped. “Oh, that’s awful!”

“Oh, this is bad,” Kamala acknowledged, “This is very bad.”

“Can someone tell me why you’re all so afraid of the Volkov coven?” Bernie asked for some clarification, “I’m not familiar with that one. I’m only familiar with the Zanna coven from Italy because of the Stefani tomes.”

“The Zanna coven, as we all know, is a friendly, peaceful coven of vampires that believes in the coexistence of vampires and humans and the sharing of knowledge between the two races,” Elizabeth explained, “The Volkov coven, not so much. They believe that vampires are superior to humans and should dominate the earth. The coven enslaves humans and views them as nothing more than servants and a source of sustenance. Their views on vampires turning humans are conflicted; they view it as a necessity if their numbers dip too low but ideally wish to keep their vampire bloodlines pure.”

“I’ve done a lot of reading up on the Volkov coven,” Pete cut in, “They absolutely abhor human-vampire relationships, it’s tantamount to sacrilege in their coven. Even though they have low opinions of humans many of them do keep humans as sexual playthings in secret, and unfortunately it isn’t always with the human’s consent. Naturally, some of these relationships result in dhampirs being born, and the way the Volkov coven deals with that… well, let’s just say it doesn’t end well for the dhampir or the human parent. I’d like to not have to go into further detail.”

“This is a big part of why Putin hates me so much,” Said Hillary, “I don’t just pose a political threat to him, because I’m a human who’s both married to a vampire and has a child fathered by a vampire I also pose a threat to his coven’s principles and his goals for vampire superiority.”

“He could sense that I was a vampire from meeting with me towards the end of my presidency, but I told him Hillary and Chelsea were also vampires to protect the two of them.” Bill explained. “He didn’t realize that Hillary was a human until she became Secretary of State and he was able to be close enough to her to detect if she gave off a vampiric presence or not, and since she’s a human and I’m a vampire it was pretty obvious to him that Chelsea was a dhampir. Naturally, he wasn’t happy to find that out. He can’t harm Hillary or Chelsea without it looking suspicious or causing international repercussions since we’re such a high profile family, but if he could get away with it I know he’d absolutely hurt them both.”

“Putin already uses Trump as a puppet to undermine democracy,” Hillary reminded everyone, “If Trump was to become a vampire Putin could use him as a puppet to push anti-human propaganda and subjugate all the humans in the United States.”

“And every dhampir living here would suffer a worse fate,” Said Bill, his expression grave, “All of you have a human partner. Many of you have dhampir children. We have a duty to protect our partners, our children, and every human and dhampir in this country.”

“Come to my apartment as soon as you can tomorrow,” Elizabeth instructed everyone, “You’ll each give some of your venom so we can mix up the antidote, and once it’s ready Bernie will visit Trump under the guise of a hookup and slip the antidote to him in a Diet Coke.”

“Bill and I won’t be able to join you until later because we’re doing another rally for Elizabeth in Virginia and it’s going to look suspicious if we leave it, but we wish you the best of luck and will meet up when we can.” Hillary informed them. Not wanting the Volkov coven to take control of the country, the other vampires gladly agreed to help, and the Zoom meeting mercifully concluded without any further discussions of anyone’s sex life.

Bernie, Eric, Kirsten, Kamala, Cory, and Amy were already in Washington for the COVID relief votes and arrived at Elizabeth’s apartment very early the next morning. Julián, Pete, and Beto had booked some last minute flights the evening before and joined soon after, as did Joe, who had taken the train out from Delaware. They were all wearing masks and doing their best to social distance in the confined space of Elizabeth’s kitchen. Elizabeth handed everybody a paper cup with plastic wrap over it and prepared one for herself; they all briefly pulled their masks down to their chins so they could bite down and fill the cups with their venom and then immediately pulled them back up to cover their noses. In total they had about two and a half cups of venom from everyone, the exact amount the antidote recipe called for. Elizabeth took all the cups and dumped everyone’s venom into a saucepan, setting the stove to low heat. She measured out two and a half cups of water from the sink to match the venom and added it in, then she grabbed a bottle of Italian seasoning from the pantry. This ingredient raised several eyebrows.

“I thought we were making an antidote, not a pizza.” Pete remarked. “What’s the Italian seasoning for?”

“It turns out that according to the tome and Stefani’s research there are certain herbs that have some medicinal properties and react with the venom when heated together,” Elizabeth explained, “And all of these herbs happen to be found in Italian seasoning, so it’s easier to just add some of that in instead of adding all the herbs individually.” She added three heaping tablespoons to the mixture and stirred it as she waited for it to simmer. While Elizabeth was minding the mixture the other vampires were conversing amongst themselves to lighten the grave mood that had overtaken them, and Bernie had started telling Julián about Trump’s endless questions about vampires and Twilight comparisons.

“Why didn’t you just give Trump the Stefani tomes to get him to be quiet?” Julián asked. “Stefani’s writings answer basically any question you could have on vampires.” Bernie gave Julian a withering look.

“Do you really think Donald would actually sit down and read all the tomes?” He scoffed. “He’s read the Twilight novels, but that’s about the only thing he’s ever read! Reading isn’t his thing.”

“Ah, true,” Julián agreed, “He wouldn’t have the patience to get through all of them.”

“Want to see a photo of my kids?” Eric asked completely unprompted. Before Bernie could reply Eric was shoving his phone in his face, displaying a photo of his toddler son and baby daughter. “Nelson and Cricket, my little angels!”

“Dude, why’d you name your kid after a bug?” Beto questioned. “That’s kind of stupid.” Eric rolled his eyes at this.

“Are you really going to come after me for what I call my daughter when you have a son called Ulysses?” He retorted.

“Ah. Point taken, dude.” Said Beto.

“Oh, fuck,” Elizabeth cursed, “I almost forgot-we need something else for the antidote, something I don’t have and can’t get.” Bernie immediately realized what she was talking about.

“Oh, garlic!” He exclaimed. “That’s right, aside from the Italian seasoning we need to boil the venom with a couple bulbs of garlic!”

“During the Zoom meeting I was going to ask Hillary to stop by and get some garlic for me before she left for Virginia since none of us can handle garlic without getting a rash or getting sick, but SOMEBODY,” Elizabeth grumbled, shooting a glare at Bernie, “Decided to derail the meeting with distracting sex talk and I forgot to ask. So now we have no garlic. And none of us can get garlic.”

“I guess we’d be fine handling it if we put on some latex gloves,” Pete reasoned, “That would stop us from getting a rash and it wouldn’t look suspicious for us to wear gloves at the grocery store, lots of folks have been wearing them to do their shopping since COVID started, but gloves won’t help with the noxious smell. Even through a mask that smell will still make us sick!”

“We’re all married to humans, right? Well, Cory isn’t married, but he’s dating a human. We could ask one of our partners.” Eric suggested. “My wife was here visiting with the kids but she's back in California now, and I know Liz’s husband is out in Texas campaigning for her, but did anybody else come to Washington with their human better half?” It turned out that nobody had; their significant others were dispersed across the country in their various home states.

“I might be able to get Jill to take the train out here and buy some for us,” Said Joe, “She might be busy though; I think she’s teaching today.”

“Could we ask one of our human colleagues?” Kamala offered up. “We’ve each got human friends in the house and senate that know about us. We could go to them.”

“They know about us, but they don’t know about Trump or about his relationship with Bernie,” Kirsten reminded her, “Hell, we didn’t even know about it until Liz and Hillary told us! We all have reasons to keep quiet about it, but our human colleagues might not. It seems risky to involve any of them.”

“I think I might know one human who could help us!” Elizabeth announced. “A human who knows about Trump, knows about us, and has a reason to keep quiet about it all!”

“Well who the fuck is it?” Bernie demanded.

“Tim Kaine,” Elizabeth revealed, “He knows about vampires, he knows you’re screwing Trump, and he won’t say anything about it because he’ll get into trouble for breaking and entering if he does.”

“Tim’s broken into places?” Cory asked aloud, a perplexed look on his face. “When did that happen?”

“He was hiding under the bed with Bill and Hillary when they broke into Trump Tower,” Elizabeth told him, “Anyways, Tim is our best option. Me, the other senators, and Eric are going to have to leave soon so we can be in congress to vote on COVID relief, but when we have a break we’ll go chat up Tim and see if he’ll help us. The rest of you wait here.” The senators and congressman all left to try and make some progress on COVID relief, progress inevitably blocked once again by McConnell and his GOP majority, while Pete, Beto, Julián, and Joe remained in the apartment. When they went on break for lunch Elizabeth asked around and found that Tim had gone to his office, so she and Bernie went there to find him. She knocked on the door and a moment later Tim answered, wearing a colorful bandanna around his face instead of an actual mask.

“Hi, Liz! Lovely to see you!” He greeted her cheerfully. He then saw Bernie at her side. “Oh. And Bernie’s here too.” He noted considerably less cheerfully.

“Hello, Tim!” Elizabeth greeted him back. “Could you do me a favor? Can we step into your office so we can talk in private?” Tim let them in and closed the door. He sat down at his desk, which was covered in an assortment of bandannas and harmonicas, and began to use a bandanna to polish a harmonica while Elizabeth and Bernie stood six feet in front of him and six feet apart from each other.

“So, what can I help you with?” Tim asked. “Do you want to do a campaign event together? I know that Joe was my first choice, but I’m always a team player and I’m happy to get out there and help you and Hillary drum up support!”

“That’d be great, but that’s not what I came here for. Can you go to the nearest grocery store and get me a few bulbs of garlic?” Elizabeth requested. “It’s very, very urgent.” Tim looked up from his harmonica and raised an eyebrow at her.

“Why do you want garlic?” He inquired. “You’re a vampire! My wife is one too and she can’t even walk by it at the supermarket without feeling faint, even with a face mask on! Why would you want to be anywhere near it?”

“We have a terrible, terrible situation and need the garlic to help fix it,” Bernie explained, “Long story short, I fucked up and injected Trump with my venom while I was drunk. The Clintons told me there was a way to make an antidote using venom, herbs, and garlic. None of us can handle the garlic so we need a human to do it for us, and Hillary is out campaigning right now, so you’re our human.”

“Oh gosh!” Tim gasped. “You turned Trump? That’s terrible! But it’s good that you at least have a way to reverse it! Of course I’ll help you!”

“Great! Thanks so much!” Elizabeth thanked him. “We’re not going to get anywhere in the senate today so I don’t think we’ll be missed if we step out early to go finish the antidote. Once you have the garlic I’ll need you to bring it to my apartment so you can prepare it for us and we can add it in with the other stuff.”

“Can do, soon to be President Warren!” Tim replied happily, flashing her a thumbs up. Bernie thought he was entirely too cheerful for the situation but didn’t say anything about it. He and Elizabeth started making their way back to her apartment while Tim left to go procure the garlic. After a brief trip to the grocery store Tim arrived at the apartment with three bulbs of garlic and started separating the cloves while the vampires looked on, making sure to stand several feet away. Even from that distance the scent still had some of them feeling faint and nauseous.

“If anyone has to throw up because of the garlic the bathroom is that way,” Elizabeth informed them, pointing to her right, “I just got new flooring put in, so I don’t want anyone puking on it.” Soon Tim had finished separating the cloves and added them to the pot. With the smell of the Italian seasoning masking the garlic the vampires were once again able to get close. They boiled down the mixture for a couple hours to reduce it and created what was essentially a thick syrup. Bernie had bought a bottle of Diet Coke from one of the vending machines in the Capitol and had emptied some of the soda out of it to make room for the antidote. He carefully poured the finished antidote into the bottle and used a barbecue skewer to stir it until it was combined. Bernie screwed the cap back on and examined the bottle; the spiked Diet Coke didn’t look any different from a normal one. It had started to get dark out now and Bill and Hillary had returned from Virginia around the same time the antidote had finished reducing, so with everyone assembled and the antidote complete it was now time to pay Trump a visit.

They all managed to get inside the White House undetected and made their way to the master bedroom. Bernie sat down on the bed and texted Donald to let him know he had come to visit while everybody else hid in the closet. It was a tight space for all of them to fit into, definitely not social distancing, but each and every one of them wanted to be there to make sure Trump got the antidote, and the closet was the best way to conceal themselves.

“I’m still thinking about you guys getting it on.” Beto whispered to Bill and Hillary while they waited.

“Stop thinking about it!” Hillary snapped at him.

“Haven’t people dissected my sex life enough?” Bill complained.

“That’s your own fault, dude.” Beto pointed out. “Maybe don’t cheat on your wife and people will leave your sex life alone.”

“Maybe mind your own fucking business, Robert Francis.” Bill scoffed.

“He’s got a point though, dear.” Hillary reasoned. “If you didn’t make… ‘certain choices’, then your private life would stay private.” Donald finally arrived; his eyes were the same shade of blue they had been before being turned and his teeth weren’t fanged, but Bernie and the other vampires could sense that he had his mask up. Though he was not yet completely turned, his powers had fully manifested and he was able to start using them, albeit poorly. Noticing Bernie, Trump gave a wicked grin and lowered his mask. Seeing their enemy now resembling one of them, red eyes and fangs and all, chilled the vampires to the bone.

“Oh, back so soon?” Trump taunted Bernie. “You left me hanging a few days ago! I was almost worried you wouldn’t come back!”

“Well, I changed my mind,” Bernie lied, “The Democrats have nothing to offer me. I’ve decided that I want to be by your side no matter what.” Donald floated over to the bed, a bit clumsily since he still wasn’t used to this power, and plopped down into what he thought was a sensual pose among the pillows.

“Do you also want to be in my bed?” He smirked suggestively, tracing his finger along the sheets. Bernie really didn’t feel like having sex with him right now since he knew that his colleagues were all watching from the shadows, but Donald would get suspicious if he refused.

“I do want to, but first I have a peace offering to give you,” He replied, “You’re about to be a vampire so you might not enjoy the taste as much as you used to, but I’ve brought you a Diet Coke to make amends.” He presented the spiked Coke to Donald, and Donald seemed pleased with the “gift”.

“Great!” He beamed. “I’ve still been drinking it, it doesn’t taste the same but I still like how it fizzes.” He grabbed the Coke from Bernie, unscrewed the cap, and chugged the whole bottle. Once it was empty he tossed it aside and pulled Bernie into a kiss.

“Yes! He drank the antidote!” Kirsten cheered quietly, “Now we can all go home and call it a day.”

“Not yet,” Said Elizabeth, “We have to wait thirty minutes to see if it works. I’m not leaving until I’m sure that he’s back to normal, and as much as we all dislike him we can’t leave Bernie here alone. Trump isn’t that bright but he’ll realize something’s up if Bernie leaves suddenly.” 

“Oh God, are we gonna have to watch old men having sex?” Beto cried in dismay. 

“I wouldn’t be opposed to watching men having sex,” Pete commented, “But I’d prefer it if they were closer to my own age.”

“Maybe if we close our eyes it won’t be as bad.” Cory suggested.

“We’re still going to have to hear it, though.” Julián pointed out.

“Trust me, having listened to them going at it for hours, the sounds are just as bad as the visuals,” Hillary replied, shuddering a bit at the memory, “I didn’t drink nearly enough Chardonnay that night to forget it all.”

“Oh God, Trump’s taking his shirt off!” Amy noted.

“And grabbing Bernie’s ass.” Joe added.

“It’s horrifying but I can’t look away.” Said Eric. 

“Well, at least Pence isn’t with them this time.” Bill pointed out, trying to bring some positivity to the situation.

“Maybe it won’t be as bad as we think it will,” Said Tim, also trying to be positive, “Maybe they’ll go under the covers and we won’t have to see anything.” Bernie and Donald did not go under the covers, however, and it was even worse than everyone thought it would be. Bernie tried stalling with foreplay as long as possible, but Trump was never one for slow sensual romance, and the attempt at foreplay just made all the observing vampires and humans even more uncomfortable. Eventually, after thoroughly traumatizing all of their spectators, Donald and Bernie were finished. Bernie quickly redressed, not wanting to be naked before his colleagues any longer than he had to, while Donald remained in bed and moaned in discomfort, rubbing at his jaw.

“I’m not feeling too hot right now, Bernie!” He whimpered. “Is this normal? Am I supposed to be like this when I turn? Or did you give me the Chinese Virus?” Feigning concern, Bernie cupped Donald’s face in his hands to get a better look at him. He grinned triumphantly; Donald’s eyes were once again light blue, his teeth blunt, and the vampiric presence in the room had grown somewhat weaker. They’d all done it; they’d stopped him from turning.

“Well, Donald, you seem perfectly fine.” Bernie smirked. “Yes, a perfectly fine human.” He emphasized the word human, which Donald raised an eyebrow at. Before Donald could ask any questions, Julián leaned a little too heavily against the closet door and ended up falling flat on his face on the floor, giving away everyone’s hiding place. Donald looked off in their direction, his face bearing a mixture of shock and anger at the sight of his adversaries. Donald, Bernie, and the Democrats all regarded each other in stunned silence for a moment. Julián eventually gave a sheepish smile and waved at Trump and Bernie.

“Uh… hey y’all.” He greeted them.

“What the fuck!” Donald shouted. “My closet’s full of crooked Democrats! Crooked Hillary’s here to spy on me again, and she’s not alone! Go get her, Bernie! Throw her and all her nasty little friends out!”

“Actually, I’m with her,” Bernie announced, floating over to join the Democrats, “And with them. We couldn’t let you turn, Donald, so we put a little something in your coke to stop it.” Donald began panicking, staring at the empty coke bottle in horror.

“YOU POISONED ME!” He screeched. “YOU’RE ALL TRYING TO KILL ME!”

“Well, I guess that could’ve potentially become our plan B if the antidote didn’t work,” Bernie reasoned, “But no, we aren’t trying to kill you. We just gave you an antidote to cancel out the turning process. You’ve lost your vampire powers and you’re staying human.”

“And Hillary and I are going to kick your ass at the polls in a few months!” Elizabeth cut in. “Kiss the presidency goodbye and say hello to prison, Donald!”

“You’re going to get what’s coming to you,” Hillary warned him, “It’s taken four years but you’re going to get it. We’re taking you and your party down.”

“No! You aren’t supposed to do that!” Donald wailed. “None of you were supposed to do any of this! I was supposed to become a vampire! I’m supposed to get a second term! I want my vampire powers! I want to win!” The Democrats had had enough of him and his melodramatic bullshit. They were all tired from the long day, scarred from the sex they had witnessed, and had successfully stopped Trump from turning, so they all decided to return home. One by one they each floated out of the window and into the night, with Bill grabbing hold of Hillary and Tim since neither of them could float on their own. Only Bernie and Elizabeth remained. Elizabeth vaulted out the window and into the sky, expecting Bernie to follow, but he didn’t.

“Aren’t you coming?” She called out to him, hovering in the air by the windowsill. “You can’t possibly still want to stay with Trump after all of this!”

“Oh no, I’m finished with him, but there’s something important I need to do before I leave.” Bernie went over to Donald’s dresser, atop which sat the four books comprising the Twilight saga. He smiled maliciously at Donald. “Do you remember that bet we made four years ago, Donald?” He asked, picking up the first book in the series. “If you won, I’d watch the Twilight movies with you. If Hillary won, I’d get to destroy all your Twilight novels. Well, I didn’t get my way four years ago, but things are different now…” Bernie ripped the book in two with his immense vampire strength as Donald looked on in anguish, then proceeded to rip apart the other three.

“No!” Donald cried. “You monster!”

“I’ve been wanting to do that for four years!” Bernie cackled gleefully. “Oh, this feels so good!” 

“This motherfucker’s more distraught about you tearing up his badly written romance novels than about the thousands of people dead from COVID,” Elizabeth grumbled, rolling her eyes, “I sure am gonna love knocking him out of office. Come on, Bernie. Let’s go.” She floated off, and Bernie followed her, throwing his wedding ring at Trump’s feet before he did so. No words needed to be exchanged; Donald knew full well that this gesture meant their “marriage” was over. He dropped to his knees, gathered his destroyed novels in his arms, and sobbed. He’d lost so much in the span of one evening, and he had a sinking feeling that pretty soon he’d lose the presidency too.

The rest of August passed by quickly, then September, then October, until finally it was Election Day in November. Elizabeth and Hillary won in a landslide, absolutely pummeling Trump and Pence at the polls, and the GOP suffered major losses in the house, senate, and governor races, being punished by the country and people they had abandoned in their greedy, selfish pursuit for power. Bernie had managed to keep his ill-fated romance with Donald a secret even though another investigation had been launched into Donald and his shifty dealings. All of his relationships were being scrutinized heavily, but no one suspected he had any connection to Bernie, and Trump, Pence, and the Democrats that knew of their relationship had their own reasons for staying silent. America had managed to not be disappointing for once, and the country could begin to heal. A few months later in January, President Warren and Vice President Clinton stood together on the Truman Balcony, staring off at the Washington monument as the sun began to set. COVID was still pretty bad in the states, but they were beginning the process to control it, and they’d finally managed to get relief passed now that they had a majority in congress. It wouldn’t be easy, it would take time, but they were determined to right the wrongs of the Trump administration and get the country back to a better place.

“It would’ve been nice if Bill and I had gotten to live here again,” Hillary sighed wistfully, resting her arms atop the balcony railing, “But I’m glad that you get to if I don’t.”

“You know you can come visit any time,” Elizabeth told her, flashing a fanged smile, “Just don’t hide under my bed while I’m having sex with my husband.” They shared a laugh over this.

“Oh, believe me, I’ve been traumatized enough,” Hillary giggled, “God, 2016 was a strange election, a very strange one. I never expected to be running against a reality star.”

“And I never expected one of my colleagues in the senate would shack up with that reality star and almost turn him into a vampire,” Elizabeth replied, “2020 was just as strange.”

“They were more than strange,” Said Hillary, “These elections were so fucking insane.”

“Well, we sure have our work cut out for us, Hillary,” Said Elizabeth, “Lots of policies to lay out and lots of Chardonnay to drink. Better get to it.” The two of them headed inside, ready to leave the horrors of the Trump presidency and Trump’s near transformation into a vampire in the past and looking forward to a new, brighter era for their country.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was considerably longer than the others in the Vampire Politician Saga but there were a lot more people in this one/more stuff happened so it increased in length. Not sure anyone can complain about getting more story, though! There were so many people who ran this time I honestly forgot about a lot of them but I tried to include most of the main guys/the people who stuck around longest. I purposefully excluded some people I either really disliked or didn’t care about enough to write about (Gabbard, Yang, Marianne, Steyer, Bloomberg, the various irrelevant white dudes polling at one percent) but I tried to include everybody else. Anyways, I hope you all liked this latest installment of the series. I’m not sure what I’ll make the Halloween 2021 vampire fic centered around, I am interested in possibly expanding upon the Volkov coven a little bit/expanding on the vampires that believe in vampire supremacy because I think that could make for a thrilling story. I also have another idea for something a little more casual where all the US politics vampires either have a party or go camping together or something and tell each other stories they’ve heard or read about the Zanna coven and Volkov coven to flesh out the lore behind that. I don’t know. I do genuinely enjoy writing these silly stories, something that I wrote initially as a joke based off my sims game became a fun little thing to do for every Halloween, and I hope everyone else has enjoyed reading this weird series as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it. Anyways, happy Halloween and make sure you vote.


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